


Unwind

by gildedfrost



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Hank Anderson, Car Sex, Hook-Up, M/M, Phalloplasty, Praise Kink, Premature Ejaculation, Strangers to Lovers, Trans Connor (Detroit: Become Human)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-22
Updated: 2020-04-22
Packaged: 2021-03-02 04:02:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23778844
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gildedfrost/pseuds/gildedfrost
Summary: Hank’s barely halfway through his first drink when another man joins him at the bar, taking the seat next to him and leaning forward a little too far. The man looks like he just came from work, still wearing a jacket and tie, and Hank almost writes him off as some asshole without regard for personal space. He tilts his head, glances towards the door, and asks if Hank would rather enjoy a different indulgence tonight.He doesn’t finish that drink.
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Comments: 14
Kudos: 108





	Unwind

Hank doesn’t go to the bar to be social. He’s there because life and work are shit, and getting drunk is the only way he knows to get his head to shut up, no matter how much Jeffrey pesters him about therapy. It’s a shitty habit, one that pulled him under after a nearly fatal accident a few years ago, but there’s not much good in his life outside of his dog, payday, and weekends with his kid.

Most days, he ends up getting in his head and reaching for a bottle. It’s a little less sad if he’s drinking with company, even when said company is the guy two seats down watching the game.

He’s barely halfway through his first drink when another man joins him at the bar, taking the seat next to him and leaning forward a little too far. The man looks like he just came from work, still wearing a jacket and tie, and Hank almost writes him off as some asshole without regard for personal space. He tilts his head, glances towards the door, and asks if Hank would rather enjoy a different indulgence tonight.

He doesn’t finish that drink.

The next few minutes pass by in a blur. It’s not long until the two of them are in the parking lot of an office building that’s empty for the evening, the other man’s car parked in a dark corner. His hands roam over Hank’s chest in the backseat, reaching beneath his shirt to explore while he kisses and sucks as much skin as he can reach on Hank’s neck, both their cocks straining against their jeans.

Hank grips the man’s ass, delighting in the feel of the soft flesh beneath his hands. He pulls down, grinding the other man against him, finally pulling a breathy moan out from him. “What’s your name?” Hank asks. His voice is rough already.

“Connor.” His mouth latches onto Hank’s collarbone.

When Connor grinds down again, Hank’s hips jerk upwards. His touch is electric, lighting up all the nerves in Hank’s body, and he feels simultaneously like he’s fooling around back in college and like he’s floating out of his body. “Oh, fuck,” he says, “do that again.”

Connor complies, slowly grinding his length against Hank’s. “What should I call you?” he asks, voice low and silky.

“Hank. Call me Hank.” He can feel the precum leaking and smearing inside his boxers. Worry spikes inside him, breaking through the exhilaration. “God, Connor, this might not last long.”

“I don’t mind. As long as we can get some fun, right?” Connor’s hands start to unbutton Hank’s shirt, but his hips don’t pause. Hank can tell he’s not the only one worked up.

But all it takes is a couple of seconds, and then Hank’s mind blanks. He thrusts upwards, rubbing against Connor as his cock twitches and comes, his orgasm washing over him without a chance to hold back. He gasps, feeling the spurts of cum in waves, and he knows his boxers and cock are going to be covered in it.

Part of him is embarrassed, but another part of him stubbornly enjoys this intimacy and the pleasure. It’s been way too long.

“Did you just…?” Connor sits up and reaches downward, making quick work of Hank’s belt, button, and zipper. He dips a finger into Hank’s boxers, then whistles. “You did warn me.”

“I, uh. Whew.” Hank laughs. “Sorry, I guess. Thanks? Sorry.”

Connor runs a finger down the side of Hank’s cock and Hank shivers. “Does this mean you’re going to leave?” he asks, with a tone that sounds like he doesn’t expect that to be the case. A lock of hair escapes his increasingly mussed hairstyle, making him look perfectly imperfect, almost like he stepped out of a magazine; the soft backlight from the streetlamps only lends to that image. Hank decides he needs to reassess his initial impression of Connor being simply average.

“Come on. I’m not a dick.” Hank cups Connor’s crotch, feeling his hot length inside his pants. “I’ve got a mouth and hands. I’m down for giving a hot guy a blowjob.”

Connor pauses, and in the dim light from the streetlamps Hank can see his mouth form an ‘o’. “I was kind of hoping I could fuck you.”

“Well.” It’s been a while, but Hank can’t say the thought doesn’t get him a bit hot under the collar, even as boneless as he feels now. “Lucky I’ve got an ass, too.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstimulate you. Unless you’re into that,” Connor says, his hands still slowly touching along Hank’s cock. It’s nice, almost soothing. Certainly intimate.

“You’ve got lube, right?” At Connor’s nod, Hank shrugs. “Then just go slow. I don’t want to pass up the chance to get that cock in my ass.” He clenches at the thought. It’s far too soon for his erection to return, but he knows he likes it. Even if he can’t get it up again he knows he’ll enjoy this--and the memory of it, too.

Two of Connor’s wandering fingers dip into his cum, then he brings them up to his face, sucking the cum off them. It looks like he’s still uncertain, but then he nods, popping his fingers out of his mouth. “On your knees,” he orders, then stretches across to the glove compartment. Hank catches sight of the bulge in his pants and his mouth waters.

By the time Connor’s got the lube, Hank’s on his hands and knees, jeans and boxers pulled down to his ankles. He looks over his shoulder to see Connor rolling on a condom, and he almost regrets not pushing to give the guy a blowjob, because that cock looks delicious. It’s not as big as his, but it’ll be a decent stretch, and Hank’s thanking his own small toy collection for making sure this isn’t the first time this year he’s taking something up his ass.

“Like what you see?” Connor asks. He slicks his fingers with lube before inserting one into Hank, and Hank lowers his head against his arms with a groan. “Because I certainly do.”

“I do,” Hank groans. “I don’t know what possessed you to flirt with me, out of everyone in the bar, but I’m so fucking glad you did.”

“You’re hot, and you look like you could pin me down. Maybe I’d let you, next time.” A second finger joins the first, and it goes in easily. The stretch doesn’t hurt or burn. “You’re being so good for me, Hank.”

Fuck. It’s been a long while since anyone’s ever praised Hank in bed. (Or the back of a car, at that.) He spreads his legs wider, mindful of the limited space, and breathes deeply. The sensation is less intense and not overstimulating, and he can feel arousal low in his gut again.

“You ready, babe?” Connor asks, still scissoring Hank open while the other hand pulls one of his cheeks. “Gorgeous.”

Hank blushes. “Yeah. C’mon, get in me already.”

He doesn’t need to ask twice. Connor continues to finger him for another half minute, then withdraws his fingers. Hank can hear the pop of the lube cap and the sound of Connor slicking himself up, then he feels the head at his entrance. He relaxes as Connor pushes in, slowly yet firmly, and he can feel the stretch with only a slight sting.

When Connor bottoms out, Hank feels so full.

“Oh my god,” Connor breathes. “Shit. I won’t last long, either.”

Hank squeezes and Connor lets out a choked moan. “You can still show me a good time.”

Connor huffs a laugh. “Sure. Are you…?” He touches Hank’s cock again, but Hank shakes his head.

“Fuck me. Don’t worry about me, I just want to feel you.” Slowly, Connor pulls back, thrusting back in just as slowly. Hank thinks both their legs are shaking, from adrenaline or the awkward position, but he also knows Connor’s holding back. “I’m good, I promise. I want it hard, Con.”

He can feel Connor’s nod more than he can see it. His slow thrusts become faster, and once they reach a comfortable pace Connor gives a few strong, deep thrusts that take Hank’s breath away. ”Fuck,” Connor breathes. They’re both sweating and moaning. The feeling of Connor’s hot cock inside him, hitting all his good spots and dragging against his tender walls, almost has Hank seeing stars. “You’re incredible.”

Hank doesn’t have any more words. His eyes are half-open as Connor pounds into him, and he drifts along for the ride, taking the sensations as they’re given to him.

“Oh, Hank,” Connor says. He thrusts two, three more times, slow and hard, letting out a low groan as he comes, balls deep in Hank’s ass.

When Connor finally withdraws, Hank lies down on his side, giving his knees some relief. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees as Connor tosses away the condom, then tucks his cock back into his pants and adjusts himself.

“So,” Hank says, in a daze. “You come here often?”

Connor laughs, leaning back against the seat and looking like Hank feels. “I haven’t been out to a bar in a couple of years, maybe. I think I picked the right one.” He grins. “You?”

“I just picked a place in the area. Came out here for work, decided to take an hour or two to unwind.”

“Well.” Connor rests a hand on Hank’s leg. “Are you unwound?”

“I sure as hell am.” Hank pushes himself into a sitting position. “Whew. Is this the point where I offer you a drink?”

“Afraid not. I can’t stay.” He looks apologetic, his bright brown eyes catching the faint streetlight. “But I’ll take a rain check if you’ll have my number.”

“Sure. Why the hell not?” Hank grimaces. “I mean that in a good way. This was fucking fantastic. We should absolutely do this again, except someplace where I’m not gonna put out my back. Like a bed. Christ, aren’t we both too old for sex in public places?”

“Evidently not. We’ll try a bed next time, then. It’s a date,” Connor says, and Hank’s heart flutters.

He tells himself it’s just the endorphins.

* * *

Connor daydreams about Hank for the entire following week.

He can’t help when he has a quiet minute at work--a law office--and his mind drifts from the documents in front of him to think about the encounter in the car. He wants to bend Hank over every surface he can think of, fucking into him rough and fast, and he wants to make love to him in a soft bed fit for a king. He wants to wake up with that man in his arms, in the familiar sheets of his own bed, cuddling together as the morning sunlight sifts through a crack in the curtains. And he definitely wants Hank’s cock in his mouth and his ass, filling him up until he’s begging for more.

Sometimes his mind imagines other people--random mystery men or celebrities that tick his boxes--but they keep drifting back to Hank. It’s been a couple of years since he slept with anyone, and he got lucky finding Hank so quickly. As far as he’s concerned, his first time having sex with his new penis was a wild success, and now he’s burning to have someone’s mouth on him. Preferably Hank’s.

His cock isn’t exactly new, but the implant is, and a couple of years isn’t long in the grand scheme of things. He’s been looking forward to this since all his nerves got properly linked up and sensation returned. That Hank didn’t ask him any odd questions really puffed up his confidence, and he’s felt confident and whole in a completely new way since that night. Every time he thinks about sinking into that tight heat, he bites his lip. The sensation was better than he imagined it to be, and now he wants to experience it again and again. He’ll get the chance, he’s sure--he’s attractive and he knows it, and he works hard to keep a steady workout regime and a decent diet.

Right now, though, Hank’s the only one he wants to impress. It’s a very sappy way to think about hooking up with a stranger, but he lets himself indulge in his contentment.

Those thoughts have been the only good part of his week, anyway. Between his car breaking down, overtime at work for a time-sensitive project, and bad memories resurfacing in his mind, he’s had a shitty time. Overthinking and staying in have pushed his mind into negative loops, causing nightmares and an inability to focus. He hasn’t fallen down the hole of drinking or other negative coping methods yet, but he knows he sorely needs a distraction.

When his daughters are out with friends on a Friday night, he decides he needs to get out. He wants to be held, to feel like he’s important to someone and they won’t let him go. The intimacy and tenderness would go a long way right now.

And he’d really like to get his first blowjob. Hell, his first handjob, for that matter. As satisfying as it is to touch himself, he knows it can be even better with a good lover.

He messages the family group chat that he’ll be out that evening, then he calls Hank before he can lose his courage. In the intervening seconds, his mind runs through all the ways things could go wrong, what if Hank hates him, is Hank going to judge him for any reason...

Hank picks up on the second ring. “Hey, this is Hank.”

“Good evening, Hank. Are you doing anything tonight?” Connor drums his fingers along the surface of the table, eyes glancing over to the fish tank. There’s too much restless energy in his body.

“Not really, but I can pencil in a plan to come by and do you.”

“Okay, that was a really bad line. I’m hanging up.”

“Wait, shit, I--”

Connor laughs, and he can’t keep a dorky grin from his face. “I’m joking, Hank. Sorry. I mean, it is a bad line, but you got me. I’d like to see you again, and I’d really like to see your tattoos in proper lighting.”

“So we’ve evolved from parking lots and alleyways, have we?”

Connor can’t help the way his mouth goes dry at the thought of getting fucked in an alleyway. He clears his throat, glancing at his fish as if they could possibly know what he’s getting up to right now. “Let’s get a room. I’ll text you the address; it’s not far from the bar where we met.”

“Sure thing. Are you in a rush tonight, or…?”

“I don’t have any obligations this time. Do you?”

“Nah,” Hank says. “Not this weekend. I’ll meet you there.”

“Great. See you soon.” Connor texts him the address of the place he’s planning on going--somewhere decent, but not too expensive--then makes to pack an overnight bag.

* * *

Connor meets Hank in the lobby and greets him with a small wave. “I got us a room,” he says, showing the two key cards and handing one to Hank.

They’re both dressed nicely today, Connor in slim pants and a sweater and Hank in nice jeans and a shirt with a tasteful pattern. As he looks closer, he realizes Hank’s trimmed his beard--and he smells nice, too.

“Lead the way,” Hank says, gesturing vaguely towards the elevator. When Connor turns, he catches Hank glancing at his backside, and he stands a little straighter as he walks, pleased at the attention.

The room is cozy and clean. The window has a good view of the city, which is a nice surprise, though they won’t be looking outside very much. Maybe in the morning. For now, he’s got someone else to appreciate.

“You look good,” Hank says after Connor sets his bag beside the bed.

He turns to face Hank, clearly looking him up and down. They’re about the same height, but Hank’s bigger than him. That really does something for him, turning some of his nervous energy into arousal, and he licks his lips. “So do you.” He didn’t notice those blue eyes before, and he thinks, in another situation, he would genuinely be pleased to meet Hank.

“So,” Hank says, stepping closer. He rests his hands on Connor’s hips and tilts his head. “How about we take a few layers off?” Straight to business, just as Connor had hoped.

Connor closes the distance between them, kissing Hank squarely on the lips. It earns him an _oomph,_ and he almost pulls back, but Hank returns the kiss with tongue. Connor melts into it, leaning against Hank and wrapping his arms around his shoulders. This is nice, being held and kissed. The moment is sensual more than anything else. It’s a feeling he wants to bottle up and take home with him.

He grins into the kiss when he notices Hank’s arousal, and he promptly squeezes Hank’s ass. “You want to give me a show?”

Hank raises an eyebrow. “You really want me to show off my body?”

“I mean.” Connor steps back, taking a long, slow look up and down. He wants to get his hands and mouth all over that. “Yes.”

“Seems you’re pretty into me.” Hank begins to unbutton his shirt. The first two buttons go quickly, letting his chest hair peek out at the top, and Connor’s tempted to have him slow down because he can see those pert nipples poking at the fabric. “Am I exactly your type?”

“There’s more than one type of man that I like,” Connor says, “but you could have easily stepped out of my dreams.” He picks at the sleeve of his sweater, wanting to take it off but not wanting to take his eyes off of Hank.

It’s almost a shame when Hank’s shirt is undone enough that he can no longer see the nipples through the fabric, but he does get a good look at the tattoo. The ink sprawls across Hank’s chest in the image of an eagle entangled in a stylistic design, the colors slightly faded. It’s artistic without looking delicate, and actually looks like it would be right at home on, say, a rock album cover.

It suits him.

“You alright there?” Hank asks, and Connor realizes he’s staring.

He doesn’t resist the urge to touch, running a hand down the center of Hank’s chest. His hand drifts and he thumbs over one of Hank’s nipples. Then Hank’s hands are on his own chest, feeling the shape of him through his sweater, and Connor’s patience is gone. Connor reaches for the hem of his sweater and pulls it up over his head, tossing it aside. He puts Hank’s hands to his own chest again. “Touch me.”

There’s a moment of discomfort, where the fear of rejection spikes as Hank glances at Connor’s left arm and the large, neat scar that dominates his forearm. It dissipates quickly as Hank turns his attention to the rest of Connor, hands roaming down his chest and across his abs, flicking his nipples along the way.

When Hank’s hands dip into the hem of Connor’s pants, he clears his throat. “I believe you were going to strip for me,” Connor says, tapping a finger against Hank’s belt buckle. “I’ve been waiting to see your cock again.”

“Yes, sir,” Hank says, and that goes straight to Connor’s cock. He parts his mouth, and it takes some effort not to palm himself right there. Instead, he gives Hank just enough space to continue disrobing. The older man drops his shirt to the ground, revealing another tattoo on his arm, and there’s a scar on the side of his belly, too. He unbuckles his belt and Connor swallows, watching with rapt attention. Hank tosses the belt aside and ever so slowly unbuttons and unzips his pants to reveal the bulge in his boxers.

It’s not like Connor’s forgotten what Hank’s cock looks like, but he didn’t quite take note of the size previously. He raises a hand to his mouth and shifts his weight, then blurts out, “Can I suck it?”

“Yeah. Fuck, of course you can.” Hank’s face turns pink even as he steps out of his shoes, followed shortly by his pants and socks. “I promise I won’t go off so fast this time.”

Connor laughs. “Hank, that’s not a dealbreaker.” He unloops his own belt and kicks off his shoes and socks. “But that reminds me: I don’t really have a refractory period. So, you know.” He tosses his pants aside, leaving just his boxers when he kneels in front of Hank.

He hooks a thumb into the band of Hank’s underwear and pulls it down, giving Hank just enough time to step out of them before he takes Hank into his mouth. He moves slowly, trying not to scrape his teeth across it, and he looks up to see Hank watching him with his mouth open.

Only half of Hank’s cock fits in his mouth, which is frustrating, but Hank’s quiet moans are more than enough reward. He holds the rest of it with his left hand, stroking as he sucks, relishing the weight of it in his hand and on his tongue. It twitches when he pushes his limits to take more of it, and Hank whispers a _‘fuck’,_ which is a compliment if Connor’s ever heard one.

Connor reaches down with his free hand to grope himself, feeling some relief at the pressure building in his loins. He slips his hand into his boxers to pump his cock to erection, then fondles himself one last time before deciding to squeeze Hank’s ass instead.

“Oh, god.” Hank laces his fingers in Connor’s hair, mussing up the careful styling he did earlier this evening. His hips jerk forward in a couple of thrusts that he cuts short, and then he’s pushing Connor away, breathing heavily and looking winded. “Christ. I need a minute if I’m going to last any longer.”

“I take it you like my mouth.” Connor stands and pulls Hank into a kiss, taking a couple seconds to enjoy the moment before divesting himself of his boxers.

Hank kisses him again, feeling along his sides, and he walks Connor backwards until they reach the bed. Connor sits and then reclines against the pillows, pulling one leg close and letting the other lay flat against the bed, letting Hank’s eyes roam over him. “Gorgeous,” Hank murmurs. “Your mouth is good, but the whole picture you make is downright incredible.”

Connor preens at the attention. Hank climbs atop the bed, and then Connor watches with lidded eyes as Hank fists his erection, filled with anticipation.

Then Hank lowers his mouth and swallows all of Connor’s cock in one go.

“Hank!” Connor thrusts up into that soft, wet heat, caught by surprise. His eyes roll back and he moans, latching onto Hank’s hair as that mouth sucks and licks, the velvety softness feeling so good all over him. He’s always loved this before, when guys would suck on his t-cock, but now it’s like that’s amplified, all five and a half inches of his cock enveloped in Hank’s welcoming mouth. “Ohhh god. Keep going, babe,” he says, loosening his grip and hoping he hasn’t hurt Hank at all. He can hardly think past the pleasure.

Hank pops off his cock, a string of saliva linking his lips to Connor’s cock, and Connor wishes he could take a snapshot and save this image forever, because he is absolutely going to dream about this for the next week. Month. Hell, decade.

“Pass me the lube,” Hank says, and it takes Connor a painful moment to get those words to make sense in his head. He scrambles over to the side of the bed and tosses over a bottle of lube, then leans right back on the bed and spreads his legs, fairly certain of what Hank’s after.

He’s right. “Mind if I finger you?” Hank asks, and Connor’s nodding before he’s done.

“Just don’t stop sucking my dick,” Connor says. He gasps when Hank takes him in his mouth again, one finger prodding at his entrance. “Go on,” he breathes. “Finger me open, Hank.”

Hank sets a steady pace, giving Connor what feels like the blowjob of a lifetime while fingering him tenderly. Two fingers fills him up nicely, and he lies back blissfully, marveling at the sensation.

He can feel his orgasm building, and his cock twitches in Hank’s mouth, so wet and slick and perfect. He breathes out slowly, his hips making small movements as he keeps himself from thrusting, and then he clenches around Hank’s fingers and grasps at the bedsheets, letting out a broken moan as he comes.

The following moments are incredible, leaving him dazed, but he has to nudge Hank away with his foot--perhaps a little too roughly--before he can lie back and catch his breath.

“I think I wanna keep you around,” Connor mumbles.

Hank chuckles, running a hand along the length of Connor’s still-hard cock. “Did you come, baby?”

“Yeah.” He stares at the ceiling, trying to gather his wits, and he waves a hand vaguely in the air. “I don’t ejaculate. I just need a second to cool down.”

Hank lies beside him, placing his hand on Connor’s chest. “Want me to fuck you?” he asks, voice low and sultry.

“Mm.” Connor places his hand atop Hank’s. His voice is a little hesitant. “I like the sound of that.”

“Sounds like there’s a ‘but’ in there somewhere.”

“Yeah, it’s my butt.” Connor grins. “Not tonight, I think.” He leans in close, whispering in Hank’s ear. “Maybe in the morning. I still want you to pin me down sometime.”

“What if I pin you down like this?” Hank asks. He practically rolls onto Connor, knees on either side of his hips, his cock bumping against Connor’s. He leans forward, taking Connor’s wrists and gently pinning them against the pillows above his head.

“Oh.” The new position makes him feel… safe. Protected. Almost like being wrapped up in a warm blanket. It’s not quite the domination he sometimes craves, but something gentler, tender. The buzz of arousal grows once more and he relaxes against the pillows. “This is good,” he says, and he thinks some of his wonder bleeds into his tone. “Add lube?”

“On it.” Hank leans back to drizzle some lube on them, slicking up their cocks with one hand in a motion that makes Connor groan loudly. He leans forward again, holding their cocks in one hand and Connor’s wrists in another, then begins to thrust slowly, rubbing his cock against Connor’s.

It’s overstimulating for about a minute, but the slow pace helps Connor ease into it, and then he’s completely turned on again. He wraps his arms around Hank as he ruts into Hank’s hand, loving how it feels to slide against his cock inside the same tightness. “Your hand--your cock--Hank, you’re perfect.”

Hank grunts against Connor’s neck. “I could say the same about you, Connor.”

They moan and pant, the sounds of their coupling filling the room, and then Hank’s hips stutter as he comes. Connor can feel his cock twitching, and then there’s cum on his belly and on his own cock, and it only takes a couple more strokes before he comes, too, with a quiet gasp.

Hank lies down next to him after wiping off the worst of the mess with tissues. Connor doesn’t realize he’s crying until Hank dabs a tissue on his cheeks. The action jolts him out of a haze, and he blinks rapidly, sight blurring as a result.

“Hey,” Hank murmurs. “You okay?”

“Yeah.” Connor touches his own face, a little surprised to find it wet. He sits upright. “I’m fine. I don’t know--maybe I’m emotional? I’m definitely emotional.” There’s a tension in his chest he didn’t notice before. “Sorry. It’s been a rough week.”

Hank wraps an arm around him. “Me, too. Work gave me something heavy to work on and I’ve been in my head all week. I think you called at a good time.”

“I needed… something. This helped. Helps. Is helping.” Connor sighs. “Are you staying the night?”

“Yeah. I don’t have my son this weekend, so I don’t have anywhere else to be.” Hank clears his throat. “Not that I don’t want to be here, just--no obligations, you know? And I think it’d be nice to spend the night.”

Connor rests his head on Hank’s shoulders. “I’d like that.” He allows himself only a moment before climbing off the bed, stretching his arms and wincing at a pop. “I should shower.”

“Good idea,” Hank says. He pushes himself off the bed and goes for his jeans. “I’ll go second.”

Connor showers and deflates his erection, followed shortly after by Hank, and soon enough he and Hank are curled up in bed together, making quiet small talk and complimenting each other like they’re a couple.

It’s a nice fantasy, and Connor clings to it, falling asleep quickly in Hank’s warm arms.

* * *

Hank’s still there in the morning. The light filtering through the curtains illuminates his hair, soft and silver against the pillow, and it takes all of Connor’s self-control not to run his fingers through those beautiful locks.

He checks his phone: No missed calls. Good. Nothing happened and he can take all the time he wants this morning.

Carefully, Connor extracts himself from Hank’s clinging embrace, tucking the comforter back over him and double-checking to make sure he’s still asleep. Satisfied, he dresses in the change of clothes he’d brought, and quietly leaves the room.

He returns with two coffees and a selection of pastries, with a large, fresh waffle topped with strawberries for himself. He sets the tray atop his bedside table and changes into pajama pants, ditching his shirt, then climbs back into bed and squeezes Hank’s shoulder.

It takes a couple of taps and a _‘good morning’_ to get Hank to wake up, blinking blearily in the morning sunlight, and Connor’s starting to think he’s getting way too attached to this practical stranger. He smiles down at Hank and kisses his cheek. “I got breakfast.”

“Is that coffee?” Hank asks, voice rough with sleep. He sits up slowly, then Connor pushes a mug of coffee into his hands, and Hank looks down at it for a moment like he doesn’t quite know what it is.

Connor chews his lip, hoping it isn’t too much to indulge in this much… whatever it is. Boyfriend fantasy? But anyone would like having breakfast in bed. “Is this weird?”

“The weird part is that you’re awake before ten on the weekend.”

“Breakfast ends at ten, checkout ends at eleven, and you made the decision to sleep with a morning person.”

“God, fucking morning people.”

Connor punches his shoulder. “Exactly.”

“It’s nice, I gotta admit. I can’t remember the last time anyone brought me breakfast in bed.” Hank grins at him and takes a sip of his coffee. “Alright, so, funny thing.”

“Yeah?”

“Turns out I feel pretty damn good after spending the night with you.”

Connor grabs the plate with his waffle and digs into it. “I’ve had a good time, too.”

Hank nods and continues to drink his coffee. A couple minutes later, he speaks again. “So…”

“I’m still down for getting fucked,” Connor says. “After breakfast.”

“God. My dick’s not awake yet, you can’t just say things like that.” Hank shakes his head. “I was actually going to ask if you wanted to hang out.”

Connor almost chokes on his food. He chews slowly, then says, “I didn’t think my mouth was that good.”

Hank shrugs. “I think we could have a decent friendship. What do you say? You could meet my dog, we could go to a park or whatever. I know we’ve barely met, but I kind of like you.”

“Huh.” He fiddles with his waffle. The idea of a friendship sounds appealing, but he’s tried something like this before, and it didn’t end well. “I’d like that, but I can’t do the friends with benefits thing,” he says. “I can do friendship, or I can do this, but I can’t do both if we’re not dating. It messes with my head.”

“Okay,” Hank says, and he actually sounds okay with it. “So what if we were dating?”

Connor’s heart is absolutely trying to escape his chest by now, and it’s not the caffeine’s fault. “You want to?”

“Yeah.” Hank nods slowly, like he’s thinking it over himself. “Yeah, I do want to. As long as you’re not allergic to dogs and you can handle me having a kid.”

A brilliant smile overtakes Connor’s face before he can tamp it down. “I have two. Kids, I mean. Not a problem.” It’s wild, exhilirating, and out of the blue that he’s basically gone out and picked a guy to be his boyfriend. They hardly know anything about each other. It might not even be a good idea.

But he can see Hank right in front of him, smiling a smile that’s just a little sad and looking impeccable in the sunlight. He thinks about holding Hank for many more nights and mornings to come, and about being held. He wonders if it will stop Hank from having that empty look he had when Connor first saw him in the bar, and if it will help him, too, when he has those nights.

“Yeah,” he says. “Let’s give it a go.”

“Great.” Hank grins, then offers his hand. “Hank Anderson, by the way.”

Connor takes it. “Connor Arkait.”

It’s not the hookup he was looking for, but damn, he’ll take it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> You can find me on Twitter as @gildedfrost (18+), and I spend time in the [New ERA](https://discord.gg/2EKAAz3) DBH Discord server as well.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Reprieve](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29077236) by [gildedfrost](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gildedfrost/pseuds/gildedfrost)




End file.
